Curing the Prince
by Nala The Lion
Summary: Prince Hayden, the English prince, hates his father, hates France(their rival country), and hates everything about being royal. When his father arranges a trip to France to negotiate peace, however, he discovers that France isn't all bad-especially the beautiful (and off-limits) princess Isabella. Sometimes, true love can mend a black heart. My version of the 12 Dancing Princesses.
1. Chapter 1

"It's not something we can debate about, Hayden. This could secure peace with France, for God's sake! I'm not passing up an opportunity like that for your...petty ideas." my father lectured, seemingly comfortable in his large chair while I passed back and forth across the foyer, the marble floors making clicking sounds beneath my boots, boots uncomfortable as hell. My father, with his crazy ideas, demanded that I wear only royal clothing in his presence. Day after day, he always said the same thing: A prince will never be in the presence of a king in a commoner's clothes. And _that_ was only one teaspoon of my daily serving of my fathers craziness. He even spoke like a medieval king in interviews and press conferences, embarrassing me and my country to no end.

"That's where you're wrong, father." I said, coming to a stop in front of him. "It is something we can debate about, since you're being an absolute lunatic for proposing we just...give up. We can't give in to France and their demands. If we go to them in the middle of this war and propose the treaty, we've lost. We've lost the control over the land that was rightfully ours, and we _will_ lose the respect of England." I said firmly, using my voice that seemed to overpower everyone else, filling the room and echoing through the halls. My father raised an eyebrow, as if to ask if my lecture was finished.

"Or we'll gain France as an alliance. I'm right, Hayden, and you know it. Now, pack your bags. We take our leave tonight." He said, and I rolled my eyes as he left. There he went again, what with the strange phrases. 'We take our leave'? I was positive it was the first time anybody had said that in the last 500 years. Sighing, I headed up to my room, knowing better to argue with my father.

"England is _so_ lucky, having a leader that's as insane as he is persistent." I muttered sarcastically, zipping my suitcase up. Once finished, I opened my laptop, looking for the latest blogs on my family. Instead of blogs on politics, however, there were "fanpages" of girls, claiming they were my one true love. Bored out of my mind, I clicked on one, filled with girls claiming they were "meant to be with me". If I wanted love, I sure as hell wouldn't be searching pages from blogs of my admirers, claiming they loved me. I let my eyes travel on one particularly insane one, looking for something to busy my time.

_'I've been obsessed with Prince Hayden ever since I saw shirtless pictures of him in my favorite Magazine last year. He has the dreamiest blue eyes, and his golden hair makes me want to DIE. I know it's impossible, but he WILL be my husband. We WILL be married once he turns eighteen next month on November 19th. Yes, I know his birthday. His favorite color is green, he loves Converse, his favorite vegetable is broccoli, and he's 6'3". I know this because we're MEANT to be with each other. I knew it ever since I saw how sexy and muscular he was, and how he had a face like a sculpture...'_

There was much, much more to that single post, and hundreds-maybe thousands-on that blog, but I had enough already. The first one I read at age 14 was an ego booster, but now it was plain annoying-and frankly creepy-to have all these girls claiming to be my future wife, saying they "wanted my baby". Shaking my head, I picked up my laptop and slid it into my bag. _If my father gets his way, we'll be there for a month so he can flirt with the women._

"Are you ready, Hayden?" my father asked once I reached the bottom steps of the large staircase, marble like everything else in the house.

"Judging by my packed bag, no, I am not ready." I said sarcastically, glancing at my suitcase.

"You know Hayden, sarcasm is your most...unappealing trait."

"Wow, bet it took you all week to think up that one."

"Not now, Hayden. We're going." with that, I was ushered out of the palace and into one of the sleek limousine.

The hour spent in the limousine seemed like mere moments, and we spent no time waiting for a plane like I thought we would be. Instead of going to the airplane like a normal person, my father insisted that we, as royalty, should take a private jet.

"Dad." I said, and he turned to me, obviously surprised that I hadn't referred to him as 'your majesty' or 'father'. Either way, he wasn't getting a 'daddy' out of me. "Why do we have to take a private jet? It seems a bit much, and it's a waste of money."

"We have money to waste, Hayden."

"You're dodging my real question."

"I am not dodging it, Hayden." There he went again, too sophisticated to use a conjunction.

"Then answer the question."

"I just...would rather not waste my time in a plane full of...commoners." the sheer disgust in his voice was enough to make me want to punch him. Instead, I stood for standing, ignoring the 'seatbelts on' warning. He looked up at me, startled enough to put down his glass of wine.

"They're not commoners, dad. They stopped using that term in the medieval ages. People. Not commoners. They're normal, everyday people. For God's sake, if anything, we're the freaks. That's right, father. We're the ones who live, exiled from society, ruling from afar. You act like they're...hideous creatures, diseased, but we're really the ones they should steer clear of. People of you don't know how to rule. A person off the streets could rule better than this! People like you...people like you don't deserve to be royal. _Mom_ was the only...the only good one of all of us. And now she's gone." I said, storming away to the bedroom, something completely unnecessary for the plane.

"Another spat, Prince?" a guard asked, one I was good enough friends with. He still treated me like I deserved the star, the moons, and all the planets, but he and I shared a mutual disliking for my father.

"Just like every other day." I muttered darkly, then shook my head. I gave him a half-smile, looking up at him. "Have you seen Jacob?" I asked, and he nodded. Jacob was, in simpler terms, my best friend. He used to be a guard, but when we grew close, I convinced my father to let him stay with us as family. He still served as a guard on trips like this, but was treated a few notches better.

"I'll bring him right over, your highness." he said with a low bow, almost jogging out to find my friend.

"Man, your dad is pissed. What'd you do this time? Throw his wine in his face again?" Jacob asked, his ever-present smirk on his face. He sat down, knowing he didn't need to bow to me.

"I wish I did. He'd be much more pissed, though. Nah, all I did was tell him that he's not as special as he thinks. Again."

"I've got to start keeping tally of the amount of times you go off on him. The royal imbecile can't help it-he doesn't have enough of a brain."

"You mean, _he hasn't enough of a mind_." I said, a dead-on impersonation of my father. Jacob laughed, shaking his head at the same time.

"Better watch yourself, King Harold might throw you off the plane." he said, and this time I gave an incredulous laugh.

"If he were strong enough."

"Hey, man, have you seen these new blogs?" he asked, carrying my laptop. I didn't bother asking him how in God's name he got ahold of it-it was packed in the top of my suitcase, not at all hidden.

"This morning."

"What about the contest ones?" he asked, and I arched an eyebrow, a skill I had mastered perfectly after a week of practice in my bathroom mirror.

"Contest?"

"Okay, I'll read one. _'Prince Hayden Contest, Entry 162: My name is Anna Greens. I know I would be perfect for Hayden. I have all the qualifications-I'm blonde, just like he wants, and I have brown eyes, just like his dream girl. I have it all, and I'm a very down-to-earth girl. He should choose me-_'"

"Hold on. What about the choosing?" I asked, a frown now on my face.

"Oh, right. According to this blog, you sent out a 'request' saying that you were tired of being alone, and wanted to find your princess. She has to be tall, thin, blonde-haired, brown-eyed, and her lips have to be as soft and as red as roses." he said, chuckling.

"That's absolute bull shit. If I wanted a woman in my life-which I don't-I wouldn't post a...random blog-thing, asking for one! I don't have a dream girl with 'blonde hair and brown eyes'-I'm not _that_ shallow." I said, crossing my arms over my chest in a defensive post that I had carried from my childhood.

"Exactly. And, if you're finding a wife, it'd be me helping you-not the internet." he said, and even though he was joking, he kept a strange smile on his face. I would've pointed it out, but I was stopped by a flight-attendant coming into my room.

"I hate to interrupt, your highness, but I have to inform you that we have landed in France."

**As you can clearly see, Prince Hayden doesn't have...the best attitude...but he'll get better :D**

**I'm going to add a love interest in the next chapter or so, along with the element of the 12 Dancing Princesses :)**

**Please review :D **

**Keep calm and watch A Cinderella Story!**


	2. Chapter 2

My father went immediately to greet France's king, shaking his hand. _Already, he's touching hands with the enemy. _

"My son and I are so grateful that we were invited here. We cannot wait to negotiate peace." he said, grabbing the sleeve of my shirt, right by my shoulder, and tugged me to where he was standing in front of the king. I scowled, both upset with my father, and upset by the French king already. My father gave me a pointed glance, and I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Good day, King William." I said, trying not to roll my eyes as I bowed down low, a show of both respect and mockery. He took it as mockery, sneering at me.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you already?"

"All due respect, sir, but I'm fairly sure you don't want me here, and I sure as hell don't want to be here while my father kisses your feet. Just being honest." I said, nodding. I delivered the lines with a regal tone, making it sound like I was asking him out for tea rather than insulting my father and his country. He, rather than getting angry, only chuckled.

"This one is yours, Harold? He's very...feisty, free-spirited, as compared to your obedience. I like this one." he said, a smile curling onto his face. Only then did I notice the swarm of girls in the room, their ages ranging from 5-25, most of them around my age. They all shared some common features, I noticed, but none of them looked exactly alike. I recognized them as King William's twelve daughters, the ones that liked to dance.

"Dad, may I please." Oh, one of the girls is like my father. Weird words and phrases. She said something to him urgently in French after that. I didn't speak the best French, but I knew enough of the language to know that she didn't like me. And that her name was Isabelle. A useless detail, but one of the only things I caught.

"Back on topic." William said, smiling. "I hope we can converse at dinner, and get to know each other." he said, and I sighed. My eyes traveled back to the princesses, and I noticed that a third of them were looking at me. When our eyes met, they would do something like batting their eyes or twirling their hair and giggling in a flirtatious way. I arched an eyebrow, and looked away awkwardly. At age 15, I was fine with female attention, but now I was over searching for female attention, knowing that they were tedious and needy for the vast of majority of the time.

After my father and the king were finished making dinner plans, they dismissed me.

"I'll show the prince to his room." one girl said, the one named Isabelle. The one that seemed to already hate me. I noticed quickly that she had bright green eyes, my favorite shade of the color.

"Thank you." I said, grinning at her. She returned my grin with a glare, shoving my luggage at me.

"Listen up. I've heard of you, Hayden, and I already don't like you."

"Wow. Straightforward."

"Shut it. As I was saying, for some reason, my father thinks you're interesting, and my sisters have crushes on you for whatever insane reason. It takes a certain type of girl to fall for you, and I'm not that one. I can see right through your façade, and I know how shallow you are."

"By all means, please continue insulting me. Another blow, why don't you."

"I wasn't finished. Anyhow, you cannot treat my father that way, insulting him to his face." she said, leading me up a long staircase.

"Ah. Daddy's girl." I said, smirking. She glared at me, and I shrugged. "Hey, hey, hey. That's one insult for your thousand."

"You deserved each one." she said, and I only shook my head, the smile on my face.

"Isabelle, you'd look much prettier without the scowl on your face." I said, my naturally flirty tone slipping in. Her glare only deepened, her bright green eyes now a smoldering, mossy green.

"How do you even know my name?"

"How do you know mine?"

"Oh, please, Hayden. You're the hot topic on every blog, even in France. Not only English girls are fond of your highness. Now, how do you know my name? I'm fairly I'm not on many blogs. That's Rose's job." she said, and I looked at her curiously, noticing something in her gaze...jealousy?

"Ah, your sister." I said, and she nodded. "Pretty one, curly blonde hair and grey eyes?" I asked, and she frowned. Princess Rose was famous for being the most beautiful of the princesses, one about my age. She was attractive, but she wasn't my type of girl-too much of a flirt, trying too hard to be seductive.

"Yes. She's most popular among the subjects. You'd like her." she said, her voice hard as she looked up at me, trying to see my expression. She almost had to crane her neck to see me-I looked like a giant next to her, her small frame not more than 5'5".

"No, I wouldn't. I prefer brunettes." I said, giving her a wink. She only rolled her eyes at me, not amused by my flirting, but tucked a lock of the wavy, auburn-brown hair behind her ear.

"Don't even try flirting with me, Hayden. It won't work on me."

"Ah, but that's the fun of the chase."

"Shut up." she hissed through clenched teeth, turning at the end of the hallway. The marble floors turned to some sort of red velvet, and her heels stopped clicking against the floor, the carpeting making our footsteps silent. I looked up at her attire-the black heels were matched by a full-length dress, completely black. She was in the most plain dress out of all the girls who had arrived in ball gowns, but she seemed the most comfortable with how she carried herself.

"Sorry, sorry." I chuckled. "Can we start over? I'm Hayden."

"And I'm not interested."

"You're breaking me, Isabelle. Can't we be friends?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't like you."

"Fair enough." I shrugged, but the smile was still on my face.

"Your room is here." she said. Before I could thank her, or even say a few words, she turned on her heels and walked back down the hallway.

An hour later, I was still in my room, bored out of my mind. I was lying on the bed, made to perfection, with my hands folded behind my head as I stared at the ceiling. I heard my door opening, and I sat up to see who it was, expecting Jacob.

"Hayden." the blonde said, smiling sweetly at me. "I didn't introduce myself properly. My name is Rose." she said, walking into the room as though she had never seen it before.

"I know. I've heard of you." I said, giving her a smile back. I noticed that she had changed clothes, and was now in a short red dress-one that didn't leave much to the imagination. I arched an eyebrow as she stopped pacing next to me, sitting on my bed beside me. _Figures. The room's the size of a small village, and she choose to sit right next to me. _

"Oh, you have? All good, I suppose." her voice surprised me every time she spoke, low and soft at the same time, almost as if she was trying to always speak in some sort of strange, husky whisper. I wasn't sure if it was forced or natural, but I did know it was a voice that could give a hundred men sweet dreams for weeks. I wasn't as weak to a seductive girl, but I saw what all of the fuss was about her. She seemed to be the opposite of Isabelle, but I seemed to be more drawn to Isabelle. _She's more intriguing. That's all. _

"Of course, princess."

"Oh, please, call me Rose." she said, her voice almost a purr. Somehow, she had shifted so even our arms and legs were touching.

"Rose. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." I said, deciding to flirt back for once. She pretended to slap my arm.

"Oh, shush." she said, her hand still on my arm. "Your bicep is so hard. Do you work out?" she asked, looking up at me.

"Yeah, that's how I spend the most of my free time."

"That's so hot." she said, her voice sounding like she was about to swoon. "Like you. I dance in my spare time, as do the rest of my sisters. I love dancing out in the moonlight to _death_." I didn't know why she emphasized the word 'death' so much, but it was a bit...creepy, to say the least.

The door swung open before she could come closer, revealing one of the princesses, one I hadn't noticed before.

"What, Simone?" Rose asked, her tone not as soft as it had been when I was talking to her.

"There's 30 minutes before dinner. Father wants you to change, Rose." she said in a soft voice-not soft like Rose's, but soft in a shy way, telling me immediately she was timid, shy. I smiled gently at her, and her brown eyes widened, then she ran away. _Strange..._

I finally came down to dinner, a few minutes late, with all eyes in the room glued to me. The long table only had one seat left, sandwiched between Rose and Isabelle. I made my way over to the seat slowly, knowing that 14 pairs of eyes were watching me carefully, not to mention the guards.

"You're late." Isabelle hissed, and I glanced at her. She looked much prettier, dressed in a green dress that matched her eyes, and her hair was straightened, though I liked it better wavy.

"You look nice tonight." I said, giving her an easy smile, not noticing I was completely ignoring the blonde behind me.

"Why must you always flirt with me? I told you, I do-"

"Not flirting, darling. Being kind, trying to befriend you." I said, giving her my most charming grin. The grin worked, and she smiled back-not a full smile, but enough of a smile to show the dimples she had in both cheeks, and her perfectly straight teeth. With the smile on, she was the prettiest of the girls, I noticed. Cheesy, I know, but the smile transformed her face, even the small smile. For the smallest moment, I wished I could see her full smile, but dismissed the thought.

"Fair enough, I guess."

"Does that mean I get a chance in your friendship?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" I repeated, turning the word into a question.

"Maybe." she said again, the diction in her voice the same as before.

"I'll turn that maybe into a yes. Just wait."

"Doubt that." she said, but I could see her repress a laugh.

"Don't doubt."

"Hayden." I felt a hand on my arm and turned to see Rose, her red-lips pouting. I noticed that she always seemed to have some sort of...theme, wearing all red. Because of her name, or because she thought it was hot? I thought she'd look much better in grey-to match her eyes or her platinum hair, but didn't say anything.

"Yeah, Rose?" I asked, the lazy smile returning to my face.

"Nothing, really. Just thought you were ignoring me."

I would've replied, but the sound of glass clinking stopped me.

"Good evening, my beloved daughters, and my kind guests." King William said, and all voices silenced to look back at the French king. "Thank you for joining us in dinner, and thank you all for being so gracious in this time. Harold and I have came to an agreement. Not everything is final, some issues need to be smoothed out, but we've decided to divide the country. Harold and his son will be spending the next month here to settle the boundary lines and laws of division, but the plan is final. The land will be split, and the decision will not be changed-for the good of both countries."

"Bullshit." I said, standing up. The rest of the table looked at me, alarmed. "That's right, I said a 'bad word' at your little tea party, William. You know _why _all of this is bullshit? It's because the land you're splitting rightfully belonged-and belongs now-to England. For over 1000 years, that land was England's land, and it will be England's land for a thousand more, because we deserved that land. The people of England won't settle for some...stupid agreement saying that we get half-or less-of the land that we own. My _father _has always been a people pleaser, sure, but right now? He's a plain idiot. This is...this is the decision of a lifetime, and he's taking mere seconds to decide. We're losing a huge portion of England, and we're losing history along with it. Everything that's happened there, all the history-it'll crumble away because my father wanted to be friends with France. England doesn't need more friends! We have enough allies. What we _need _is our dignity, dignity being thrown away with this agreement. Hell, I'm going to be the king in less than 5 years. And I'm _not _ruling over a land that gave everything up to you. Thank you for the offer, and thank you for the dinner. It was _great_, but I have to leave." I said, pushing my chair away. It toppled over, and a collective gasp ran through as I walked away-not into the castle, but into the garden, on my way out.


End file.
